Faust [part 1]. Translated Into English in the Original...

AUERBACH’S CELLAR IN LEIPZIG CAROUSAL OF JOLLY COMPANIONS FROSCH Is no one laughing? no one drinking? I’ll teach you how to grin, I’m thinking. To-day you’re like wet straw, so tame; And usually you’re all aflame. BRANDER Now that’s your fault; from you we nothing see, No beastliness and no stupidity. FROSCH (Pours a glass of wine over BRANDER’S head.) There’s both together! BRANDER

FROSCH You wanted them: I’ve given you mine. SIEBEL Turn out who quarrels—out the door! With open throat sing chorus, drink and roar! Up! holla! ho! ALTMAYER Woe’s me, the fearful bellow! Bring cotton, quick! He’s split my ears, that fellow. SIEBEL When the vault echoes to the song, One first perceives the bass is deep and strong. FROSCH Well said! and out with him that takes the least offence!

BRANDER A nasty song! Fie! a political song— A most offensive song! Thank God, each morning, therefore, That you have not the Roman realm to care for! At least, I hold it so much gain for me, That I nor Chancellor nor Kaiser be. Yet also we must have a ruling head, I hope, And so we’ll choose ourselves a Pope. You know the quality that can Decide the choice, and elevate the man. FROSCH

Yes, sing away, sing on, and praise, and brag of her! I’ll wait my proper time for laughter: Me by the nose she led, and now she’ll lead you after. Her paramour should be an ugly gnome, Where four roads cross, in wanton play to meet her: An old he-goat, from Blocksberg coming home, Should his good-night in lustful gallop bleat her! A fellow made of genuine flesh and blood Is for the wench a deal too good. Greet her? Not I: unless, when meeting, To smash her windows be a greeting!

Attention! Hearken now to me! Confess, Sirs, I know how to live. Enamored persons here have we, And I, as suits their quality, Must something fresh for their advantage give. Take heed! ’Tis of the latest cut, my strain, And all strike in at each refrain!

(He sings.) There was a rat in the cellar-nest, Whom fat and butter made smoother: He had a paunch beneath his vest Like that of Doctor Luther. The cook laid poison cunningly, And then as sore oppressed was he As if he had love in his bosom. CHORUS (shouting) As if he had love in his bosom! BRANDER He ran around, he ran about, His thirst in puddles laving; He gnawed and scratched the house throughout. But nothing cured his raving. He whirled and jumped, with torment mad, And soon enough the poor beast had, As if he had love in his bosom. CHORUS As if he had love in his bosom! BRANDER And driven at last, in open day, He ran into the kitchen, Fell on the hearth, and squirming lay, In the last convulsion twitching. Then laughed the murderess in her glee: “Ha! ha! he’s at his last gasp,” said she, “As if he had love in his bosom!”

Before all else, I bring thee hither Where boon companions meet together, To let thee see how smooth life runs away. Here, for the folk, each day’s a holiday: With little wit, and ease to suit them, They whirl in narrow, circling trails, Like kittens playing with their tails? And if no headache persecute them, So long the host may credit give, They merrily and careless live.